


Bad Romance

by whatkindoftea (haeli)



Series: Lady Gaga Throwdown [3]
Category: DBSK|Tohoshinki|TVXQ
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:19:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haeli/pseuds/whatkindoftea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ro·mance [n., adj.]: a novel or other prose narrative depicting heroic or marvelous deeds, pageantry, romantic exploits, etc., usually in a historical or imaginary setting; the colorful world, life, or conditions depicted in such tales.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Romance

**Author's Note:**

> Final part of the Lady Gaga Throwdown I did with WennyT and sohii, and it was supposed to be done in August. Oops.

The stillness of the apartment is lulling compared to the tavern’s boisterous noise, and the company it keeps is much more welcome than the drunk men down at Buco. The sounds of the Florence street float upwards three stories, distorted and distant, a muffled backdrop. Yunho slides his stifling floral overgown off, stripping down to his linen shirt and hose, the breeze from the open windows refreshing against his overheated skin.

 

“You’re here early,” a soft voice reaches him from the corner of the room. A candle flickers on the top of a desk, casting Changmin’s hunched form in dancing shadows, and Yunho smiles at the sound of a quill scratching across parchment. His lover can never leave an idea alone until the morning - it’s one of the many reasons Yunho decided to act as his patron. The boy - now a young man, Yunho reminds himself - showed ambition and talent and a startling force of will for someone so pretty and so poor.

 

“Early?” Yunho moves to press his nose to the top of Changmin’s head, inhaling the scents of ink and paint and rosemary, “It’s past two again.”

 

“Hmmm?” Changmin doesn’t even look up, eyes focused on the page before him, and Yunho sighs.

 

“Come to bed, love,” he stills the hand holding the quill, lips tracing the shell of an ear sticking out from beneath wavy strands of hair. Yunho loves Changmin’s long hair - the way it falls around his face and frames his beautiful eyes. Thankfully, Changmin had been resisting the bowl cut style many artists found so fashionable because he disliked the way his ears stick out.

 

“I need to finish this!” Changmin tries to duck away from Yunho’s ministrations, but a smile twists his mouth and curves his eyes unevenly even as he pretends to be irritated by the older man’s presence.

 

“You must have a slave driver for a patron,” Yunho clicks his tongue, brushing aside locks of hair to press into the side of the younger man’s neck, grinning at the chill he feels skip down Changmin’s spine. Yunho’s hands skim Changmin’s sides to sit teasingly at the hem of his shirt.

 

“He’s terrible,” Changmin confirms, flicking his now-free wrist and scrawling down a few final lines of the half finished poem, pieces crossed out and little illustrations populating the corners of the parchment, “Really, someone aught to rescue me from him - take me away from this place. Surely I’ve proven myself talented enough for that.”

 

Yunho can hear the humor in the comment, but he can’t stop the hurt from pulling at the edges of his pleasant mood. Changmin realizes his mistake a half moment too late, as Yunho moves to stand by the bed instead, watching the artist with a wary eye.

 

“Is that what you really think?”

 

“No, Yunho,” Changmin pleads, but doesn’t stand up and come to him, “Of course not.”

 

“No?” Yunho questions, “You wouldn’t leave me for someone with more status? More money?” Yunho gestures at the small two room apartment Changmin calls home thanks to Yunho’s generosity. “You wouldn’t move on for something better?”

 

“Why do I even need to answer you?” Changmin rises from his chair now, real irritation painted across his face, and Yunho feels a jolt of happiness at the expression. If Changmin thinks he’s being a stupid bastard, then everything is fine.

 

“It would be a good move for your future,” Yunho uncrosses his arms and opens his stance for Changmin to curl against his chest as he reaches him, “Someone like the Duke?”

 

“He’s boring, and his mouth and teeth are stained with that red wine he likes too much,” Changmin dismisses the idea with a single thought, fingers pulling through the soft hair falling just past Yunho’s shoulders, “And I hear he’s impotent.”

 

Yunho laughs, muffles it in Changmin’s shoulder, ignoring the nagging voice that says Changmin is too good for him, that he needs more credibility than what Yunho’s modest rank of nobility can offer.

 

Always too perceptive - Yunho blames it on the large brown eyes - Changmin presses a reassuring hand between Yunho’s shoulder blades and tugs on Yunho’s hair with the other until he has no choice but to look at the young man in front of him.

 

“I would feel cheap if I left you for a title,” Changmin admits against Yunho’s lips, bringing their faces impossibly close. “I whore for no one,” he says quietly, and it’s as much of a confession as Yunho could hope for, given the power game they play and the prying Office of the Night.

 

“Alright then,” Yunho breathes out his anxiety and kisses Changmin with a slow surety he tries to make himself believe, and Changmin’s hands grip tighter at his shoulders, shoving in close and demanding Yunho’s full attention. Changmin tilts and slides his lips over Yunho’s a little too aggressively, tongue wet and greedy against Yunho’s own.

 

The way Changmin sighs and whines into Yunho’s mouth and presses their bodies together winds the nobleman up in no time, and he should be better at resisting the younger artist, should be able to control the pace, but he can’t. So instead he pulls Changmin’s shirt over his head and pushes him back onto the bed.

 

Flushed and panting, Changmin looks gorgeous, like one of his sketches that litter the apartment’s floor, high cheekbones and sharp angles striking and pleasing all at once. Yunho crawls after him, marveling at the expanse of skin displayed for him - only him, Changmin assures him with a whine.

 

“Take care of me, Yunho,” Changmin holds Yunho’s face in his hands. They’re long-fingered and delicate, flecked with ink, and Yunho presses his lips to the inside of a wrist before ducking lower to catch one of Changmin’s nipples in his mouth, teasing and pulling until Changmin cries out, hands tangling in Yunho’s hair to pull him closer, thighs pressing in on Yunho’s sides in encouragement.

 

He intoxicates himself on Changmin, moving across his chest and down his stomach, tongue dragging and teasing the entire time, reveling in the feel and taste of the body beneath him. He’s hard and aching, and can feel Changmin’s erection against his chest as he bites at the skin above the band of Changmin’s hose.

 

“I should have finished my work,” Changmin huffs as Yunho continues to tease, “you would be moving much faster if I had ignored you for a little while longer.”

 

In response, both pairs of pants are removed with impatience, buckles clacking as they’re undone from their holdings, and fabric whispering over skin as it’s dragged off harshly, until Yunho can press himself against all of Changmin’s naked skin to steal another kiss from a needy, gasping mouth.

 

They kiss ferociously, both fighting for dominance, and Yunho would usually overpower Changmin, but tonight is different. Warmth and contentment spreads through his chest, knowing Changmin will stay for now, and it makes Yunho pliant and maybe even a little lazy.

 

Changmin blinks up at Yunho as he pulls away, “Let’s try something different.” It’s not the first time he’s let Changmin take him, but the occasions are few and far between - too many things flipped and inverted by the single act for Yunho to fully enjoy it often.

 

“Maybe I should be worried about you being impotent,” Changmin laughs and twists them around until he’s hovering over Yunho, settling comfortably between strong, splayed thighs. “Making me do all of the work.”

 

“Well if you mind,” Yunho grips Changmin’s arms like he’s going to flip them back around, but Changmin wraps his hand around Yunho’s cock and starts stroking before Yunho can manage to do anything.

 

“Don’t mind,” Changmin drags his teeth down the center of Yunho’s chest just because he knows how much Yunho loves it, and he’s rewarded with a groan and hips bucking into his hand, “Not if this is what you want.”

 

“Yes,” Yunho pleads as he scrambles to find the small jar of oil kept near the bed, hands already shaking from the way Changmin twists his fingers just beneath the crown, thoughts spiraling as another finger presses against his entrance, then moves to tease his balls.

 

When did Changmin learn him this well? Yunho isn’t sure, but he won’t ever complain as Changmin draws out pleasure with his hands and his mouth like he knows what each gasp and shudder means. Changmin treats them like challenges and rewards, pleased when Yunho gasps into the still air of the apartment but never satisfied, always pushing for more as he stretches Yunho and takes his cock into the back of his throat. Yunho can’t watch and can’t look away, so he alternates between clenching his eyes shut and catching Changmin’s dancing gaze until it’s too much.

 

“Enough,” Yunho demands, voice shaking, “enough.”

 

“You have terrible stamina,” Changmin taunts softly, lips red and mouth wet with saliva, “We should work on that.”

 

“You weren’t complaining about my stamina after the festival last month,” Yunho reminds him and basks in the flush that blooms over Changmin’s cheeks at the memory. He’s pleased he can still make the supposedly enlightened artist color with his words.

 

“That will be the last thing you say tonight that’s not my name,” Changmin promises as he pulls Yunho’s legs higher on his waist and slides into Yunho’s heat until they’re pressed flush against each other, and Yunho chokes on his own spit at the feeling of being impaled. Jaw set and arms shaking, Changmin waits, sweat sticking his hair to his face and the nape of his neck in a dark mess. Yunho focuses on the scent, sharp and rich, using it to ground him as he adjusts to Changmin being inside of him.

 

They should do this more often, Yunho’s mind spins the thought as Changmin starts moving, thrusts measured and deep.

 

“Damn society; this feels incredible,” Yunho gasps and rolls his hips up to meet Changmin’s movements. Changmin huffs a laugh into his neck, but spares no breath for words as he moans in the wake of his own pleasure.

 

They’re silent as they fuck, only their choked off noises and the sound of naked skin meeting over and over breaks the quiet of the apartment. Yunho slowly remembers what it was like to find pleasure in giving up control as Changmin moves above and inside him, and he lets Changmin manipulate and draw his orgasm through his body with deliberate thrusts and a sure hand on his erection. It’s overwhelming. Sensation runs rampant - raking up his spine, wrapping around his skull and settling hot and urgent in his stomach as Changmin fucks into him repeatedly and perfectly.

 

“Yunho,” Changmin chokes out, and Yunho has no idea how much time has passed - how long he’s been lying beneath Changmin - but the candle on the desk has burned down to the quick.

 

“I know,” Yunho replies, voice rough and wrecked, “It’s alright, Changmin.”

 

With a shudder Changmin comes, quiet and sudden, shoulders tense with his climax, and Yunho holds him close through the tremors and teases a mark into his neck, right where his overgown will rub and dip so anyone could see.

 

Without hesitating, Changmin pulls out with a contented exhale, and takes Yunho back into his mouth, sucking at the head and stroking the rest, a soft groan finishing Yunho off entirely. Hips rocking and hands twisting into sheets, Yunho comes with a warning shout, one that goes unheeded as Changmin catches his seed in his mouth, licking it up with a satisfied grin.

 

“You like sex too much,” Yunho admonishes without heat as Changmin presses against his side.

 

“Perhaps,” Changmin traces patterns on Yunho’s chest and down over his stomach, watching as the muscles jump beneath his fingers, “But one day I will wake up like you, old and lazy, and then _I_ will find a younger lover with enthusiasm for the both of us.”

 

There’s no twist of anxiety in Yunho’s chest this time, and he pulls Changmin closer with a chuckle.


End file.
